


High-Fiving A Million Angels

by Ladybug_21



Category: 30 Rock, Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22301740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladybug_21/pseuds/Ladybug_21
Summary: And just when Liz thought that her dating life couldn't get any weirder...
Relationships: Jack Donaghy & Liz Lemon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	High-Fiving A Million Angels

"Lemon, why are you in my office?"

Liz blinked.

"Is that an _Emmy_ on your desk? Did we win an _Emmy_ _?_ "

" _W_ _e_ did not win an Emmy, Lemon, _I_ won an Emmy," Jack corrected her. "Outstanding Guest Actor in a Drama Series. Apparently, I was caught on camera politely laughing at one of Angela Merkel's attempted jokes."

"Can I...?"

Jack pulled the award out of Liz's grasp as she reached for it, leaving her awkwardly sprawled halfway across Jack's desk with her hand still outstretched.

"Lemon," Jack sighed, "I repeat, why are you in my office?"

"So, kind of weird question," Liz began, pulling herself off of Jack's desk and into a chair.

"If your next sentence contains the words 'Tracy,' 'Pomeranian,' 'Snapchat,' and 'Norwegians,' then my answer is that NBC denies any liability," Jack replied.

"You've read the Bible, right?" Liz continued, ignoring Jack.

"Is the Pope literate?" Jack scoffed.

"And you actually remember what it says?" Liz pressed.

"Even better than you remember the Spanish on the back of a bag of Sabor de Soledad chips," Jack declared.

" _Qué asquerosa, gordita_ ," Liz answered. "So, um, does the Bible say anything about angels going on dates?"

Jack stared.

"Lemon, I would call you a Philistine if I thought there was _any_ chance you knew what a Philistine was. No, angels do _not_ go on dates."

"Okay, but listen," Liz argued, "the Bible was written _ages_ ago. So, even if angels didn't go on dates before the internet existed, it's possible that they do _now_ , right?"

"Out," ordered Jack, gesturing towards the door. "I just got the carpeting in this suite redone, and you are _not_ ruining it, either by tempting the powers that be to smite you while standing upon it, or with the open packet of sandwich sauce that's oozing from your pocket."

"Wait, Jack..."

"Do I have to ask Jonathan to remove you bodily, Lemon?"

"How do you explain this?" Liz insisted, shoving her phone at Jack.

Jack took the phone and furrowed his brow at the painting that Liz had pulled up on its screen.

"How do you _want_ me to explain this?" he asked Liz, nonplussed. "It's the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel." He paused. " _Why_ are you looking at Michelangelo, Lemon? Doesn't contemplating something this sophisticated at work impair your ability to write jokes?"

"Ugh, Frank pitched a sketch about Adam's balls—long story, not important." Liz grabbed her phone back from Jack and used two fingers to zoom into a corner of the painting. " _There_."

She handed the phone back to Jack.

"If angels don't go on dates," Liz asked, "then why are two of my lame ex-boyfriends painted onto the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel?"

Jack pursed his lips as he squinted at Liz's phone. Sure enough, there on the screen, in a panel that Google had captioned "The Archangel Gabriel with the Angel Aziraphale," was a startlingly accurate Renaissance-era portrait of Dr. Drew Baird and, standing just behind him, an equally good likeness of Wesley Snipes (British edition).

" _See?_ " Liz hadn't looked so triumphant since the day she'd convinced Jenna that "lugubrious" wasn't actually a sex-related term.

"No," replied Jack stubbornly.

"Jack, Angel Wesley Snipes even has a friggin' velocipede!" Liz jabbed a finger at a bicycle that was inexplicably painted next to the Angel Aziraphale. "And wouldn't it explain a lot? Like how Drew could be _so bad_ at sex, and yet somehow manage to be _so_ sexually appealing? And how Wesley Snipes could be _so bad_ at, well, _everything_ , and yet somehow Kenneth was never _quite_ convinced that he was an overgrown possum that needed to be put out of its misery with a cast-iron frying pan?"

"This could be sheer coincidence," Jack argued.

"I thought _you_ only believed in 'coincidence' when rebranded as 'the trickle-down theory of economics'..."

"There's simply no other explanation," Jack interrupted.

"Unless they're both angels." Liz reconsidered. "Or time travelers. Or maybe aliens who can pull off their faces..."

"Of those options, only angels definitely exist," Jack insisted. "At least, I never could get a straight answer out of Condi about the aliens. The point is, your lame ex-boyfriends were, well, _lame_. And angels just _aren't_ lame."

"How do you know?" Liz grumbled.

Jack inhaled self-importantly.

"Oh believe me, Lemon," he said, "I know."

Liz looked momentarily awestruck. Jack cleared his throat.

"Really just through inference, because as endearing as you occasionally are, Lemon, I would have to convert if I believed that you were _that_ much better than the Archangel Gabriel. And I _really_ don't want to have to ask Jonathan to pencil in a moment for me to find a new religion, not when it's such a big week for microwave oven programming. Was there anything else?"

"Nope," sighed Liz. "Back to Adam's balls, I guess."

As she stood, Liz slowly extended a finger to try to touch Jack's Emmy before she left the office. Jack stopped her by holding out his own hand an inch from hers.

"Back to Adam's balls, Lemon," he whispered.

"Blerg," said Liz, and she left the office before Jack could threaten her with Jonathan again.

**Author's Note:**

> To be fair, although the _Good Omens_ angels are not lame, per se, they are undeniably total assholes (and definitely my favorite part of the entire show). Also, my sincere apologies to Angela Merkel.


End file.
